Having had the unfortunate circumstance of spending the majority of my college experience in a global pandemic, my friends and I had never had the stereotypical spring break, a rite of passage with the undergrad experience. On an impulsive whim, one morning in February, three of my closest friends and I booked round trip tickets to Louis Armstrong Airport and three nights in an s Creole-French colonial Airbnb.
Leading up to our departure, I made casual conversations with people who inquired about my travel plans. Arriving in New Orleans , we were greeted with clear skies, a hot sun, and the long smooth drawl of the locals. The locally despised tourist culture became quickly apparent. Any local who we had the pleasure of interacting with for more than two minutes would quickly warn us to stay away from The French Quarter and the traditional crawlings of out-of-town visitors.
Instead, they provided lesser-known recommendations and assured us it would be much more fun. The temptation and fame of Bourbon prevailed, however, my friends and I found ourselves on the trolley by 6 p. Although I will say my experience on Bourbon Street was fun, I can see why the circumstances could quickly go south. Unhinged tourists, drunk out of their minds, with an unlimited supply of alcohol in every form imaginable.
Combined with loud music and encouragement to let loose, things are bound to get out of hand. Literally chock full of clubs, bars, live music, quick bites, and strip clubs; Bourbon Street is the culmination of tourist party culture. Whenever I visit new locations that are famous for tourism, I often wonder about the relationship between locals and the industry their city ultimately relies on.
They advised us to check out lesser known areas such as Frenchman Street. To learn more about how the people of New Orleans genuinely felt about the French Quarter, I turned to several Reddit threads on the topic of tourism in the area.
